Reader x Birkin
by SirItsPink
Summary: The tale of you falling in love with Boldwood's servant, Birkin. If you have no idea who Birkin is, maybe you should read through .uk/s/58520/far-from-the-madding-crowd-swale (Act 1 Scene 13: Pink). He is a small character but there is a clear story behind him. Sorry if you hate it. This was purely for a joke.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: A new beginning**

A cool wind blows through the round, wide-open window, as you finally seal your last bag, crammed with all of your belongings. You collapse on the now sheetless mattress in the corner of the room, exhausted from your monotonous chore. However, today, to be sure, would be a good day. Suddenly, you hear a horse neighing outside your window; the coach has arrived.

Picking up all of you bags, you feel around for the door handle. Finally, you find it, and slowly push the door open. You trundle with difficulty down the long corridor and down the three flights of stairs to the front door of your lodgings. You place your key back on its hanger and step outside, to the wonderful fresh air of London, taking in all the smoke and oil that fills the surroundings. The coachman collects your belongings and places them behind an old rickety seat that lies in the back of your carriage. You step inside of the coach, and set off on your journey.

"So, where ye' headed? Queries the coachman, as you finally begin to see trees again.

"It's quite a way actually. I'm taking a job as a servant for a rich man in the country, a Mr Boldwood, so I'm told." you reply.

"Oh, that's no trouble" he responds. "The longer the journey, the better the pay. Tis' worth the effort."

Time passes, you begin to tire as the sun sets. Just before you doze off, you hear the coachman pipe up again.

"So, yer off to work for Boldwood then?"

Startled, you are only able to let out a squeak. "Yes" you chirp.

"Do yer know much about the fellah?"

"You sound like you know him quite well, sir." you say, finally regaining awareness of where you are.

"Well, he's quite a character. I've known a couple gents that come this way that were good friends of his, and they have a lot to say."

"Really?"

"Well, they're normally drunk when I pick em up, so they usually repeat the same thing over and over again."

"And what is that?" you ask, puzzlingly."

"They waffle on about him being unmarried at forty, and havin' no will to find a wife. I dunno bout you, but maybe there's more ter this Boldwood chap than meets the eye, eh?

Still trying to keep track on what the coachman is saying, you just say, "Well, thank you for the advice."

"No problem. Now, yer better get some sleep, you'll be pretty much there in the mornin'."

You nod, as you lose focus and finally drift off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: First Encounters**

The sun blinds you through the coach window as you slowly reopen your eyes the next morning. Almost perfectly timed, you begin to notice that you are on the grounds of an enormous mansion, at least three floors tall, with windows in every possible space in the walls. The path up to the house is made up of pebbles, but lined with moss on the split between the road and the grass. Around three gardeners are slowly working their way down the long strip of soil, lining them with little roses. The coach finally pulls to a halt outside of the front door, and you step out. The smell of clean, fresh air. The joy of looking up to blue skies with wispy white clouds instead of dismal, grey smoke. No more seclusion, No more narrow alleyways. This must be what it's like to live.

You grab the door-knock and firmly, but gently, give three knocks at the door. Nothing. You knock again, slightly more firm this time around. You begin to hear the sound of keys dangling on a chain and then that of unlocking a door. Suddenly, a the door is slowly pulled open and there stands a man. He looks approximately 6 foot or taller and he is rather slim, but to you, he is the most beautiful man you have ever seen. Never before have you known anyone on Planet Earth to be more attractive than this man. You open your mouth to speak, but such nerves come across your mind you can not say a word. Thankfully, he speaks first, his strong, somewhat Irish accent quietly mumbling "Oh, um, hello there."  
Now that he has spoken, your nerves are lost. "Hi. I am the new servant for Mr. Boldwood."  
"Ah!" he softly replies. "The Master said somethin' about a new servant. You, er, better come in."

The man shows you upstairs to your quarters. The room is but a small bed with a rustic wooden desk next to it. A wardrobe sits facing opposite the bed and a white rug lines the floor. The floorboards beneath it seem unstable, while damp patches spread across the ceiling. Nevertheless, you still feel happier than ever, as you unpack your belongings and place your clothes in the wardrobe. As he turns for the door, he says "It's Birkin by the way. Oh and The Master expects his tea in half an hour, but he'll ring if he needs you." With that, he exits.

After waiting for the sound of his loud, but gentle footsteps to fade out, you lie back on your bed and just lie there, dreaming of what it may be like to be in his arms. You picture him pulling you close, with the sound of bird chirping in the orchard, while you share a passionate sunset in the garden. You picture this beautiful image of yourself for so long that it feels like just minutes that he left your room. All of a sudden, you hear a ding. You assume it was the bell that Birkin had spoken of. Sighing, you stand up, and step back into the hall.


End file.
